Something Worth Saving
by Eventide
Summary: Sequel to Failsafe. It's been nearly 10 years since Claire's return home. She never truly left the field, but now she's once again being pulled into the fray. *RE5 spoilers.*
1. Nightmares

In loving memory of my most favorite villain, Albert Wesker.

"In the arts of life man invents nothing; but in the arts of death he outdoes Nature herself, and produces by chemistry and machinery all the slaughter of plague, pestilence, and famine." - George Bernard Shaw

"Death is but a door. Time is but a window. I'll be back." - Vigo the Carpathian.

* * *

"Rani!"

Claire heard the girl's frightened scream and ran towards the sound. Something caught her arm and jerked her around. The Senator lay on the ground, clutching at her in an utterly pathetic way. He begged for help, but she shook him off sharply. This was all his fault anyway.

A sound caught her attention and she turned. Through the windows she saw the airplane barreling towards the terminal. She shielded her face and dove to the ground just as the plane crashed through the wall, glass and concrete spraying everywhere.

She stood up as the dust began to settle, and her heart skipped a beat at what she saw. Zombies spilled out of the wreck, one shambling monstrosity at a time, falling several feet to the ground then climbing back up to their feet.

"No...no way."

"Claire!"

Her eyes shot toward the scream. And there, among the shambling horde, was Rani. The girl was backed into a corner, and the zombies were inching ever closer. Without thinking, Claire charged forward.

"Rani!" On the run, she stooped, picking up a jagged length of pipe and swung at the first zombie she came near. She struck the thing across the face hard enough to turn it's head around, and it slumped down the floor, never to rise again.

She mowed through zombies like a madwoman, knocking the flesh hungry creatures down like nine pins. In a flurry of blows she made her way through them, only when the line of them broke did she stop to take stock.

Zombies lay motionless around her, no sound of hungry wails in the air, no shuffling steps. Shocked at herself, she dropped the pipe as though it burned her. The sound of crying turned her around. She had almost forgotten why she'd given in to such a wild rage; Rani.

But when she turned to the small child, it wasn't Rani's dark head, but a cap of blond. The girl was curled up, her face buried against her knees as she wept in fear, but Claire knew this girl. She new that blue and white sailor suit school uniform, and that bright red head band.

She inched closer and knelt down in front of the girl. How could it be her? After all this time... She reached out a hand, laying it gently on the girl's shoulder, slight pressure, urging her to sit up. "Sherry?"

Claire held her breath as the girl slowly sat up. She lifted her face last of all, and Claire's eyes shot wide. The face wasn't Sherry's, but was a softer version of her own, the child even had her deep blue eyes. A smirk spread the girl's lips slowly.

"Mother."

Claire sat up in bed with a deep gasp. Her heart raced, and she was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. But the phone just kept ringing, heedless of her poor night's sleep. She reached for it hastily, knocking off it's stand and onto the floor in her rush. She ended up half way off the bed and upside down before she managed to find it and click the talk button.

"Yes? Uh, hello, Claire Redfield speaking."

"Good morning. Claire," the pleasant female voice chirped. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no," Claire awkwardly crawled forward with one hand, till her legs fell off the bed. "I was just getting up actually. What time is it?"

"You're a terrible liar, Claire," the voice chuckled. "How late were you up working on that report?"

"Three, maybe four, I don't really remember," She climbed to her knees and looked over at the other side of the bed, where her laptop rested. The screen was dark, but the lights on the keyboard told her that she'd fallen asleep at the wheel again.

"Are you sure you're up to do this inspection? After all, the....the incident at the airport was only a week ago."

"Mela, if you and Rani can get back into the swing of things, so can I." Using the bed as support she climbed to her feet. She went to her dresser and began riffling through it. "How's she holding up?"

"Better than you'd think," Mela answered with a low sigh. "She has a hard time sleeping some nights, and I have to turn the lights on for her, but...I suppose that's to be expected."

"Yeah..." Claire nodded, heedless of the fact that Mela couldn't see it. "She's young though. She'll bounce back."

"I know," Claire heard her friend clear her throat, a usual sign that she was about to change the subject. Claire would let her without a fight. Thinking about the outbreak at Hardvardville Airport was the last thing she wanted to do right now herself. Especially after last night. "Anyway, I called to tell you that the inspection was pushed back about two hours."

Claire tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, flopping down to sit on her bed. "You're joking? How many times are they going to do this?"

"They volunteered for it, so we're trying to give them as much slack as possible."

"Yeah well, give an inch and they'll take a mile." Claire hiked up a leg and began muscling on a pair of black tights. Hose, she felt, were for women who didn't live a life where runs were a virtual guarantee. Tights still looked nice, but they were made of slightly sterner stuff. "So what's the excuse this time?"

"They said that one of they're CEO's had taken a personal interest and wanted to be there to aid the inspection." Mela paused, and Claire could faintly hear the sound of papers rustling. "A Miss Excella Gionne."

"And this Excella Gionne has an issue with being on time?" Claire stood up, adjusting the fit of the tights around her hips till they sat comfortably. "Some CEO."

"Apparently, she has a previous engagement at our original time."

"Sure," Claire put the phone away from her ear to tug off her night shirt, which was nothing more than a XXXL t-shirt with a picture of Freddy Mercury across the front. "Her busy schedule is iron clad, but ours is ever so flexible."

"It is irritating, but look at it as a gift. You won't be late now."

A smile spread her lips as she stopped debating over power-suit red, or professional blue, and lead against the door way of her closet. "Yeah, yeah, a blessing in disguise right?"

"Absolutely," Mela's voice was colored with humor. "And just to warn you, from what I hear she's a ladder climber as well as a bit of a fashion plate. Don't let her try to intimidate you."

"Don't worry, I won't. See you in a few hours, Mela." She hung up and gave the phone a toss toward the bed. Turning back to her closet she eyed her choices once more.

"Looks like red it is."

* * *

A/N: They never give a name for the "Aunt" in Degeneration, so I randomly picked a Hindu name (Mela), due to the way she was presented in the film.


	2. Gut Feeling

"You should be wearing glasses," Mela teased. "You look like a young school teacher."

"A young school teach on fire, maybe," Claire chuckled as she glanced down at her vibrant red pant suit. Yes it was professional, but still the color was eye catching. She was just happy she could hide a pair of boots underneath the pant legs so she could avoid the horror of high heels.

"Take your hair down from that silly bun," Mela made a move to go for the aforementioned bun, but Claire dodged the hand easily. "You don't have to be so severe."

"It's not severe. It's professional." Claire glanced out the car window as they pulled through the main gate of the Tricell facility. "I'm representing TerraSave publicly. I don't want to screw it up."

"You're not going to screw it up. You've done this a hundred times."

"A hundred and ten, but never with a company with this much publicity on it." Claire let out a sigh. "I just want them to see that TerraSave means business."

Mela pulled the car to a stop in front of the main entrance. The building was tall and all glossy silver metal. It wasn't the elaborate air dome that WilPharma had been, but it was impressive in it's own right. Claire took stock of the place quietly for a moment, then reached for her seat belt buckle.

"Claire," Mela's hand touched her shoulder lightly, gaining her focus. "You will be great, and I'll see you in a little while."

Claire smiled at the older woman with a sudden warmth that swamped her. She gave a short nod and winked at her. "I won't keep you waiting too long." Then she opened the door and stepped out to face her next challenge.

* * *

Amazingly enough, Excella Gionne didn't keep her waiting like she'd expected. The woman, with a black suited body guard trailing behind her, practically met Claire at the door. Dressed in a stunning white skirt suit, that might just have dipped a hair too low in the neckline, the woman was model pretty and poised. Claire disliked her almost instantly.

"You must be Ms. Redfield," the woman's Italian accent made her speech a purr. "I am Excella Gionne. I am so pleased to make your acquaintance."

Claire accepted the woman's offered hand, and had the awkward feeling that she ought to plant a kiss on it, instead of shaking it. But shake it she did. "It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Gionne. Thank you for taking the time to let us interview your company."

"We are aware of the reputation of WilPharma prior to our purchasing the company," Excella turned and began to walk toward a set of elevators, simply expecting Claire to follow. And since there was little choice, Claire did. "We wanted no rumors to erupt when we absorbed the company into our own. That is why we contacted TerraSave directly."

They stepped into the elevator and Excella pressed a button and the car began a smooth decent. "We wanted an open communication with groups such as yours," Excella continued. "Our goal here is to help people, not to bring them harm. I am not sure if you are aware of this, Ms. Redfield but TriCell is a major funding source of the BSAA."

"Yes, actually," Claire interjected. "I was aware of that."

She thought she saw a flicker of annoyance on Excella's perfectly painted face, but it was gone too quickly to be certain. The smile was there and bright as the sun. Claire was certain Excella meant for it to blind people, so she wasn't going to stare directly at it. The doors opened and Excella led her out into a hallway, silver as the rest of the building, but the walls were clear glass. Behind the glass were many people working at lab stations, dressed in uniform white coats.

"This is our laboratory division of the facility," Excella explained on the go, her high strappy white heels muffled by the thin carpet. "I would explain what proceeds here, but I am sure you are already aware of such things. We are prepared to give TerraSave a full listing of our current projects."

"That would be appreciated," Claire answered, trying to hide the annoyance she felt. It was like she was being led by a leash, and being force fed. Force fed treats, to be sure, but why? "You're facility is rather...large in scale. What else is housed here?"

Excella didn't even break stride. "We have office levels, as well as on site housing for many of our employees. Often it benefits them to remain on site as oppose to commuting. In addition, we also offer the amenities required to those employees we house; school, day care, shopping, recreation, etcetera."

"That's rather generous of you." Claire couldn't quite hide the taste of sarcasm in her words.

Excella stopped smoothly, turning around. That smile firmly in place, but the look in her eyes was cool. "Happy workers work harder, Ms. Redfield, surely you understand that. Even the most dedicated to their career can become unhappy, disillusioned, if their other needs are not properly met."

"Yes, of course."

The smile spread a little wider and she side stepped easily. She made a gesture and Claire realized she was being waved back onto the elevator. Excella had cruised her fluidly through the area and back to the starting point before Claire had really noticed it. The woman was good.

"What else are you required to inspect, Ms. Redfield?" The words were cooed at her as she stepped inside the elevator.

"I'll need to see the other levels, the office spaces and others you described."

"All of them?" The well groomed eyebrows ticked upwards. It gave Claire a small bit of satifaction.

"Yes," she did her best to keep her smile professional. "I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience."

"No, no, not at all," Excella replied smoothly. "I understand you must verify what we have stated with your own eyes. I would love to give you an extended tour."

The look in Excella's eyes gave the lie to her words, but Claire so no reason not to put out this smooth talking fashion plate. If for no other reason to see how long she could walk in those silly heels before breaking an ankle.

* * *

"I do hope the tour was satisfactory," Excella purred as she shook Claire's hand once more.

"Yes, thank you. You've been most cooperative."

"It has been my pleasure. We shall be faxing over the documents within the next few weeks."

Claire disengaged her hand from Excella's with as much politeness as she could. "That would be more than fine. Thank you again for your hospitality, Ms. Gionne. Good afternoon." Claire bobbed a nod to the woman and turned away. She didn't get three steps before Excella called out to her.

"Oh, Ms. Redfield." Those silly heels clicked purposefully across the tile floor as Excella caught up to Claire. "I nearly forgot," Claire didn't believe that for an instant. "We are holding a fund raiser on Friday. A bit of a going away bash, as I will be transferring to another facility in the next week. I would be very pleased to have TerraSave represented at the event."

Excella extended a white envelope toward Claire which she accepted automatically. Glancing inside she found two card stock passes with fancy scrolling text printed across them. Excella smiled at her smoothly. "I would not want you to feel you must come alone. I hope to see you then. Ciao." Excella gave a little wave of manicured fingers and turned her back on Claire, striding away.

* * *

"So how did it go?" Mela asked as Claire slid into the car.

"Smoothly," she answered, snapping her seat belt into place. "The facility is, as far as I can tell, on the up and up. They'll be faxing over reports on all their current projects sometime during the week."

"But?"

"But," Claire continued, tapping the envelope against her knee. "That woman is slime in a designer suit. I couldn't prove it, but it's a gut feeling."

"Always, trust your gut, Claire."

"Bet on it."

* * *

A/N: I almost feel like I updated way too quickly, but the third chapter is nagging me incessantly, and I had to give you this one first before I could touch that one. So I guess this is a good thing.


	3. Poison

A/N: I have completely stolen parts of this chapter from the first 8 minutes of the first episode of Dollhouse. Why? Because it really works. So credit where it's due.

* * *

"You sure you don't want to go?" Claire asked into the phone, zipping up her black knee high boot over bare skin. As much as she'd have like to have worn tights, they just wouldn't fly with the dress. As it was she was a little uncertain about not having bought a pair of white boots, but the odds of them getting grit all over them were just a little too high to risk. So she'd gone with a contrasting black.

"And ruin your big splash?" Mela chuckled. "Not in million years. Besides, TerraSave has a strange reputation of being full of old stiff necks and nosey old women. I would hate to dampen the good, youthful PR your about to bring us."

"I really can't believe you talked me into this dress," Claire spoke louder so that Mela could hear her as she pulled the soft, sparkly white fabric over her head, leaving the phone on the floor for a moment. She snatched it back up and walked over to the full length mirror that was behind her bedroom door and gave herself a look. "This thing barely has enough length to cover my ass."

"You'll be fine. Either you buy a dress that goes to your knees or you get one that barely hides the necessities. Anything in between is impossible to control." Claire could hear Mela's teasing grin. "Besides, you loved it on sight and you know it."

"Yeah, maybe," Claire grudgingly admitted as she inspected her outfit in the mirror. It really was a pretty dress, white fabric with clear and silver beading. It was actually very modest except for the length, and it had pretty silvery shoulder straps.

"Maybe nothing," Mela laughed. "Are you sure you won't wear your leathers though? What if you crash-"

"Mela, I haven't crashed since I first started riding. So no leathers. I don't want to be quick changing at this thing, and where the hell would I stash them?"

"All right, Claire. Just be careful."

"Always."

* * *

The sleek red and black Rs-25 sped smoothly through Friday night traffic of the city. The super bike maneuvered easily with just a small adjustment of the handles, playfully dodging between cars, but not so fast or so close to spook anyone. Claire was a much better rider than that.

The late May evening was warm, but the air whipping by was chilly. Though she still didn't regret leaving the leathers for practicality sake, they would have been nice to break the rush of wind that threatened to pull up the hem of her dress and flash her flesh toned undies to the other motorists. But she made due with her leather jacket, a necessity if she didn't want her outfit to possibly turn out gritty.

As she saw the line of limos and sports cars up ahead, she adjusted into the far right lane, slowing down to take her spot in the line. She idled in line for a few minutes, getting a good look at the scene a block up. It was like an awards show. There was a red carpet and more reporters than she'd ever seen in one place, and Claire had been in the middle of her fair share of media frenzies.

Once there was only one car in front of her, a chocolate skinned bouncer in black on black stepped up to her. "Pass please." She was kind of surprised that he wasn't much bothered that a lone attendee was arriving on motorcycle, hell on a super bike. She couldn't image people showed up like this all the time.

Still she stuck a hand inside the leather jacket's stingy pocket and pulled out her pass, offering it up to the bouncer. He took it wordlessly, and gave a nod. "I'll let you know when you can pull up to the entryway. The valet will take your ride from there."

She flipped up the visor on her helmet, mostly so he could hear her clearly. "Does he know how to operate a super bike?"

That got her a smile. Strange how guys with nice smiles got jobs as bouncers where they weren't supposed to smile at all. "Larry is a renaissance man of motor vehicles, Miss. Your crotch rocket will be in good hands." Maybe it was because they referred to excellent pieces of machinery as 'crotch rockets'.

"Good to know." She flipped her visor down, and waited till he motioned her to move on. She was glad that they'd given a good distance from the check point to the entrance. Nothing said graceless quite like walking your bike at a snail's pace. She gave the motor a little rev, just for kicks, and pulled up to the entrance.

Even behind the tinted plastic of the helmet's visor, the camera flashes were near blinding. Safely hidden behind the helmet she took a steadying breath. _Here we go_. She pulled the helmet off in a fluid motion, her long dark hair, recently cherry tinted, spilled down her back. She didn't know if the styling goop she'd put in it before she'd dried her hair had helped keep it from looking smashed, but at least it wasn't a windblown rats nest. No matter what television said, windblown hair was never a pretty sight.

She ignored the continuous flashing bulbs as she stepped smoothly off the bike, remembering to lift the far leg over, and not flash all those reporters. The valet approached her with a smile. He held out his hand for the helmet, which she passed over. "Take care of her."

"With my life," Larry the Valet answered back with a strange smitten look on his face. Guy really must love his bikes.

She unzipped her leather jacket and shrugged it off her shoulders. She'd carry it inside. If they had valet parking, they would certainly have a coat check. She turned toward the blinding lights and made her way passed the shouted nonsense that were supposed to be questions. Small wonder the paparazzi had to make up so much of their stories. No one they interview could possibly understand anything they said over the din.

She approached the main doors and another bouncer in all black obediently opened the door for her. Taking a deep breath, Claire plunged into the lion's den.

* * *

"Won't you come down with me?" Excella purred at his shoulder. "Parties are far more entertaining when you are in them."

"Father won't dance with you," the young girl said from the lounge's couch. Excella glanced at the girl with a bit more hauteur than a moment ago, but ignored the remark. Instead, she returned her gaze to Wesker's face, the look in her eyes a bit more expectant than before.

Wesker stayed just as he was, hands braced on the sill of the tinted window of the VIP lounge, looking down at the mass of people on the two tiers below gathering, mingling, drinking, and writhing to music. His voice even and distant as always. "I've little interest in frivolities."

"Told you," the girl teased smugly. Excella flashed the child a dark look, but Wesker didn't correct the behavior. If Excella couldn't compete with a ten year old, then that was her own failing. No matter that the ten year old was more intelligent that the grown woman by leaps and bounds.

"Very well," Excella drawled, attempting to hid her annoyance beneath her charm. "I will have to muddle through with my guests alone. I will see you soon." With that she turn on her high heels and strode out of the room.

"She doesn't like me," the girl stated flatly.

"No one likes you, Alexia," the older girl in the corner responded in annoyance.

"I know," Alexia chirped pleasantly, sliding off the couch. She flounced over to the window beside Wesker. She folded her arms on the sill and pressed her face close to the glass. "I want to go to Africa."

"You're staying here," was Wesker's immediate, flat response.

"You'll need me-"

"I will need you here." His eyes tracked Excella as she approached someone on the main tier and began a conversation. He frowned as he looked at the other woman's face. Something familiar about that face.

"The device is still in testing. If it malfunctions, you'll have one of your oldest enemies in your lap, possibly going murderously insane." Alexia wheedled.

"If I can't go down to the party, can I go now?" the other girl pitched in.

Wesker stepped away from the window rather suddenly, striding for the door. "Both of you stay here." The door shut behind him with a decisive click.

The girls stared at the door in a bit of surprise. The older girl recovered first, folding her arms and flopping down on the couch in a huff. "Tyrant."

* * *

"Ms. Redfield."

Claire turned at the sound of that familiar italian accent. Excella approached dressed in a sleeveless white gown with a plunge so deep and a slit so high, it was a wonder the dress stayed together at all. She extended her hand and Claire took it. "I am so pleased that you could make it."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world." Claire managed to smile almost genuinely.

"I see you came alone," Excella raised a brow, making a purposeful glance around Claire as if her date might manifest out of thin air.

"My Rs-25 isn't really a two seater," Claire's smile reached her eyes at last, seeing Excella's confusion. At least she could hold that over the princess's head.

"Would you like me to introduce you around?" Excella offered, attempting to recover dominance in the conversation. But Claire was just about over Excella Gionne.

"No thank," she smiled and turned toward the stairs leading down to the lower floor. "I think they're playing my song."

Claire couldn't help but grin. Small victory though it was, it was still a victory. And anyway, she'd been telling the truth. She loved Tarja Turunen's version of Alice Cooper's _Poison_. So what if she really hadn't know it would be the next one on the play list?

On the lower floor, colored lights flashed, swam, pulsed and swirled around a sea of dancers. The anonymity appealed to Claire. She was in a dress she really didn't feel confident wearing, in a setting she wasn't all that comfortable being in. But not a soul here knew her, well none that mattered anyway. She could do whatever and she'd never have to deal with any of these people ever again. She'd just be another girl in a daring dress in the crowd.

Feeling strangely free by the thought, she threw herself into dancing. The kind of dancing girls like her only did in their bedrooms when no one was around. The kind of dancing that was all swirling hips and arching back, flowing hands, wild hair and heavy breathing.

* * *

He could smell her well before he reached her. It had been nearly ten years since he'd inhaled that particular fragrance, but he remembered it well. She moved to the music in an uninhibited way that he had never quite imagined her capable of. Well...not in public.

He was not so entranced that he didn't notice several other pairs of male eyes locking on to the primal sway of her body, the teasing flash of flesh. And it was that which propelled him towards her.

He came up behind her, and felt her pause when his hands rested on her hips. He watched her look down, note the black leather gloves. She breathed in deeply twice, and tried to turn, but he held her in place. He gave her credit when she didn't try to look over her shoulder at him. And she surprised him by placing her hands over his and began moving to the music once again.

* * *

"Mother!"

Alexia breathless gasp drew Sherry's attention. She climbed up off the couch and walked over to the window. "What are you doing now?"

"It's Mother." Alexia pointed against the glass, barely containing excitement. Genetically manufactured genius or not, sometimes Alexia was just another young girl. "And Father."

Sherry peered down to the lowest level and felt her heart skip a beat. "Oh my god. Claire." She was stunned enough that she didn't register the door open again, or the soft click of heels on carpet.

"What are you looking at?" Excella gained her a glance from the girls as she stepped up on the other side of Alexia. Sherry's gaze flicked down to the pre-adolecent and caught the flash of wicked mischief on her face.

"Mother and Father," Alexia's voice didn't quite hide her smirking. Sherry couldn't help the twitch of her lip either as she watched Excella zero in on the odd couple on the dance floor below.

"I- I thought you said he did not dance." Sherry longed for a camera. The look on Excella's face was a rare treat.

"No," Excella looked at Sherry as she spoke. "She said he wasn't going to dance with _you."_

It was an equally rare moment of comradery between Sherry and Alexia as they watched Excella flounce out the door, her dignity trailing behind her.

* * *

The song drifted to a close, and Claire's heart pounded in her throat. What did they do now? She wanted to turn around, to see him. The impulse was so strong it pulled at her somewhere in her chest. But she kept still, facing away from him. He'd come to her, he could make this decision.

She felt him lean in close to her, the heat of his body terribly warm against her back. She felt his fingers flex, pressing into her hips ever so slightly, and she heard him give a low guttural growl against her hair. And then he was just gone. The sudden lack of him staggered her. She turned at last, searching the crowd for him, but she saw no sign. He'd just vanished into thin air.

Her mind reeled in confusion and her heart raced. What was the matter with her? Why was she looking for him? She had to get out of there, get clear, and get some air. She shoved through people, climbing the stairs two at a time. She could see the exit just in front of her when a hand caught her arm.

"Ms. Redfield," Excella seemed so utterly calm, almost cocky. "Is something the matter?"

"No, I'm fine," Claire's words rushed out of her. "Something's come up. I gotta go. Great party."

She pulled her arm free, barely registering the scratch of Excella's manicured nails down her arm. She rushed to the Valet, her pulse pounding while he took his sweet time bringing her bike around. She jammed the helmet on her head and climbed on as soon as he came back in sight.

"Miss....where's your jacket?" the valet questioned in concern. But she was already reving the engine. She was vaguely away of her tires squealing before she was racing away. Though no matter how much she broke the speed limit, somehow she still felt like something was just behind her.

* * *

A/N: Whew! that was fun. Check out the Tarja Turunen's cut of Poison on youtube. It works so well.


	4. When You're Right

No one had followed her. No one came bursting through her window that night or any of the ones that followed. But it didn't mean that Claire had gotten any real sleep. That night she'd swept through her own apartment like it was enemy territory, but there'd been nothing there. No boogieman in the closet. Not even a hostile dust bunny under her bed. But still she'd hunkered down in the corner of her bedroom where she could keep an eye on the door and the window, her Beretta resting in her right hand, her shot gun close to her left.

When she saw the sun start to peek through the gap of her curtains, she'd gotten up and called in sick to work. She claimed she had the flu and expected to be out at least the next week. She never called off, so instead of the third degree, she was given concern and well wishes for a quick recovery. Afterwards, she'd made a strategic trip to the bathroom, and then did another sweep of her loft in the soft light of day.

Still there was nothing to find. Calmed a little by daylight and its very soothing false sense of security, she went through her morning routine. She fixed herself a quick breakfast; she ate standing at the kitchen counter, her bowl sitting next to her hand gun. She took a shower; the bathroom door left wide open, her hand gun sandwiched between two fluffy towels. She dressed; casual runner's clothes, with a shoulder holster. And she worked out; the shotgun propped against the wall next to her treadmill.

Okay, so it was her routine, slightly modified. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to believe she was being paranoid. He had been there. She'd smelled his scent, felt his heat, touched him, for the first time in ten years. When it came to Wesker, there were no coincidences. He wasn't just going to show up out of the clear blue ten years later, then disappear again. As much as she might hope for it.

_Don't kid yourself_._ Deep down you know, part of you hoped. _She shook head, to clear away the train of thought. "Hoped? Hoped what? Yeah, it's been ten years, Claire. You're obviously not that important."

Hearing herself say it out loud felt like a kick in the gut. She sat down heavily on her couch and just let the truth of her own words sink in. _He didn't chase me then, and he won't chase me now. I was never that important._ God, why did that matter so much suddenly? And why did it feel like it hurt? She should be over the moon that she just wasn't on the radar like that. That she could walk away from it all unscathed.

_But I can't._ That irksomely honest inner voice chimed in again. _I can't because I'm not unscathed.. I never got away clean-_

"I should call Chris," she rushed out, hoping to cut off the inner dialogue before she went somewhere she didn't want to go. "I should tell him."

_Tell him what?_ Her hand hovered over the end table where the down stairs hand set waited. '_Hey, Chris, sorry to bother you while your working, but I just ran into Wesker about eight hours ago. No I'm okay, we just danced a little. Just thought you should know the guy who killed your partner is state side. Kay, bye.' Yeah, that'd go over well._

She dropped her hand into her lap. A sense of confusion overwhelming her. "Well, then, what the hell do I do?"

Claire wasn't too sure she should be grateful, or resentful that her inner self had no ready answer.

* * *

She was getting angry with herself. She'd shut herself up for days, even after coming to the conclusion that no one was coming after her. But for some reason, she hadn't been able to shake the feeling that she was being watched. It had gotten worse with each day, almost to the point where she wanted to scream.

So to show her over active imagination just how ridiculous it was being, she made a choice. She was going to go get the mail.

It would be a simple experiment. All she'd have to do was walk maybe twenty yards to the residents boxes and back. Easy. And it'd prove to herself that she was just over reacting, and tomorrow she could go back to work, go back to life. So what if she chose to tuck her handgun into her IWB holster? It was just one more thing she could add to the list of over reactions when she got back. "Okay Scaredy Cat, less talking more walking," She squared her shoulders and stepped out into the sunshine.

It was a nice day. Spring was turning slowly into summer with a warm blue sky above. The trees and lawns of the apartment complex were richly green. A cool breeze rustling the foliage into lazy motion. It was early afternoon on a week day, so the looping driveway/parking lot was mostly empty except for a few people lucky enough to have a day off. It was so peaceful and empty, she immediately kicked herself for being a paranoid idiot.

Her boots scuffed over loose pavement. The road ways in the complex were full of potholes, that no one seemed to ever get around to patching. She passed a man smoking in front of the management office as she walked by. His eyes met hers and she gave a nod of acknowledgement before rounding the small building's corner.

She mounted the sidewalk; the row of mail boxes were just in front of her. Two teenagers lingered by a parked car, carelessly cutting their last week of school. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet. The sturdy leather case hung on a lanyard where she kept all her keys. The opposite end she'd tied securely through one of the belt loops of her jeans; just a little extra security.

There was nothing relevant in her box. A bunch handful of credit card offers and car insurance pitches. She glanced up, someone was coming toward the boxes. She closed hers and locked it up.

She turned away, heading back the way she came. She heard the crunch of gravel behind her, and took a deep breath, ignoring it. Rounding the building corner, she saw the smoker pitch his cigarette and step toward her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the two teenagers and the man who'd followed her from the boxes closing in behind her.

"Shit," she swore softly and picked up her pace. The Smoker sped up and intercepted her before she could get very far. She stopped short, and put out her hands, while the four men ranged around her in a circle. "Okay, guys, seriously, this has got to be the stupidest idea in the world." When they said nothing she kept going. "It's broad daylight and we're in the middle of a residential area. Do you think people aren't going to notice?"

In response, the Smoker took a swing at her. Claire blocked, snagged his wrist, and delivered a quick hard jab to the nearest kidney. Her attention shifted as one of the teenagers charged in, only to get her boot in his gut, and fall back.

The other teen was a bit smarter. He came around, flanking her. He grabbed her by the hair with one hand, and looped his other arm around hers, pinning it between their bodies. There was a reason when girls fought, they went for the hair. Control the hair, control the head; control the head, control the body. She was yanked backward at an uncomfortable angle, barely able to stay on her feet.

The fourth man in the group walked up to her casually, like he had all the time in the world, and put his hands on her shoulders. And then this mouth exploded with what looked like the Predator's mandible. She tried to hold him off with her free arm, but the one who held her worked against her, pushing her forward.

Tires squealed and there was pop of a gunshot, and Claire was suddenly falling backwards. She was lucky to get her arm out from behind her before she hit the pavement, but still the impact was less than fun. Ignoring, the strange wet, bubbling goop that was evaporating underneath her, she rolled to the side as another shot fired.

Two of her attackers were missing. In their place were two fading bubbling puddles. A black SUV blocked the drive, and a blonde woman stood behind the open driver side door, a magnum pointed through the open window. Her finger squeezed the trigger again and a third man, the smoker, fell backward, exploding into another puddle.

The last man standing, the teenager she'd kicked, apparently had a knife on him. But instead of going for Claire, he charged toward the blonde woman. Claire didn't think, her body simply reacted. Her hand went behind her, slipping underneath the helm of her tank top, wrapping around the grip. The draw was smooth, because she'd practiced it. And the gun's kick barely even registered to her as she pulled the trigger. The teenager fell forward to the ground, and turned to goo like his friends.

There was a moment of breathing, and reorienting. the blonde woman scanned around, tucked her gun away, then met Claire's eyes. "C'mon! Get in the car." Claire hesitated, just staring at the woman, and she huffed, pushing hair out of her eyes. "Get in, and I'll explain everything. I swear."

Claire went with her gut. It had been right, all this time, about something bad coming for her. So she should probably trust it now. She climbed to her feet and walked to the SUV's passenger side. "I hate it when I'm right," she muttered before climbing in.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay folks.. Life loves to get in the way. And hopefully in the next few days I'll have another niece/nephew. Plus when simple details need to be in focus, it tends to drag for me.


	5. Revelations

"You still have some moves," the blonde woman commented, as she pulled onto the highway. "Guess you're not too used to going up against zombies that can plan though, huh?"

"Okay, wait," Claire rubbed a hand over her forehead, try to get the circulation rotating back to her higher thinking. "Before we start chatting like this is all supposed to make perfect sense to me, how bout you tell me who the hell you are?"

The driver glanced at her with a small smile. "I guess it has been a pretty long time. I can't really blame you for not recognizing me." Claire stared at the blonde for a long moment, then her jaw fell to her lap.

"Sherry?!"

Sherry gave her another smile, taking a hand off the wheel to wave at her. "Hi. Oh hey, you should probably not do that," she warned as Claire threw off her seat belt to turn sideways in her seat. "I am kinda pushing the speed limit here, Claire."

"Screw that. Sherry, oh my god. Where have you been?!" Claire's breath came in quick intakes, and her heart was pounding. "I've been looking. Oh, god. I've been looking for you for-"

"Ten years," Sherry nodded. "I know. I always knew you'd keep looking for me. I'm sorry. Claire, really, we don't really have the time for me to pull over and let you process this. I need you to keep it together right now. I promise, just as soon as there's time, you and I can have a huge crying jag reunion. But it's gotta wait. _Please_, put your seatbelt back on."

Claire took a deep breath and nodded. She sat back in her seat and snapped the buckle back into place. She pressed her head back against the rest and closed her eyes, just breathing. Sherry was right. This was not the time to fall apart, even if it did seem like it.

"Okay," she nodded again. "Okay. You said you'd explain if I got in the car."

"Right," Sherry nodded as she changed lanes. "Okay well, those guys that jumped you back there-"

"Wait." Claire held up a hand to stop Sherry mid-sentence. "I think you're jumping ahead of the story here. Where have you been all this time Sherry?"

Sherry let out a breath and seemed to deflate a little. Her mouth thinned and she became even more intently focused on the road. "With Wesker."

"What?!" Claire's head jerked in surprised and knocked against the glass of her window. "Ow, damn it." She winced and rubbed her head.

Sherry let out a little snicker. "I hope you don't do that with ever piece of shocking information I'm about to give you. I really don't need you giving yourself a concussion, Claire."

Ignoring the comment, Claire directed them back to the topic at hand. "He's had you all this time?"

"Hey, don't go getting that guilty look, Claire. It wasn't your fault. Even if you'd been there, nothing would have changed. Except maybe you not being so alive and well right now." She spared Claire another glance. This one filled with sincerity, almost willing Claire to do as she said. "I've been fine. Better than fine. Aside from a lack of social life, I've wanted for nothing. I've had a better education than the kids at Princeton."

"He kept you prisoner."

"No," Sherry cut her off again. "Don't go down that road either. Yeah, I'll admit for the first year or two, I wasn't the happiest camper. But I got over it. I could have left years ago, and he wouldn't have stopped me." She met Claire's level stare and shrugged. "Okay, he'd probably have tracked my every move, but I could still have gone. He'd only have come after me if I'd tried to betray him. Which, let me make very clear here, Claire, I have no intention of doing."

Claire's mind boggled at Sherry's statement. "Then...why did you help me?"

"Because keeping you alive doesn't go against being loyal to him." Finding themselves on an open stretch of highway, Sherry spared Claire a longer moment of eye contact. "He didn't send those men after you, Claire. Someone else did. And that same somebody is working against him and you in the worst way."

"I don't understand," Claire shook her head to emphasize her point. "Albert Wesker and I have always been at cross purposes. Who would target both of us?"

"Someone who knows you're both dangerous, in your own rights, and together. And this person intends to play both your emotions off each other."

"Sherry, can you cut through the suspenseful nuance and get to the point?"

Sherry sighed and nodded. "Wesker has gone to Africa. He's...launching a project from an area called Kijuju. Vague information about it was leaked purposefully to the BSAA. You're brother's been sent there to investigate."

Claire felt like she'd been sucker punched. The air rushed out of her lungs, and it felt like her heart skipped several beats. Air came back into her lungs in a shuddering breath. "Oh god."

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."

Claire shook herself, and rallied her self control. So not the time to fall apart. "Okay, okay. So what are we waiting for? We gotta go to Africa and stop them from killing each other."

"Yeah," Claire saw Sherry wince with guilt. "Well that's not everything."

"Not everything? What _else_ could there be?"

"The person who's doing all this; infecting you're neighbors with Las Plagas II, and sending you're brother off on a suicide mission..." She trailed off, forcing Claire to prompt her.

"Yeah?"

"It's...it's Alexia," Sherry's words rushed out of her, verbally ripping off the band aid. "It's Alexia, and she's got way more lined up for everyone."

"A-Alexia?" Claire hadn't realized she could be thrown for anymore loops, but she found her head was spinning.

Sherry just nodded, rather fiercely. "Yes, and I found something. She's been sneaking around since Wesker and Excella left and-

"Excella Gionne?!" Could this get any more tangled?

"And I got suspicious." Sherry continued on, ignoring yet another surprised interjection. "She thinks I'm a moron, but I was raised by three genius IQs. So I started digging. That's how I found out she'd taken the Las Plagas II samples." Sherry held up a hand, when Claire opened her mouth to speak. "Wait, there's more. One of the stasis subjects we'd had on the facility for some years, just up and went missing, and I found this."

Sherry reached over and popped open the dash. She took out a manilla folder and handed it to Claire. Wordlessly, Claire opened it and flipped through the pages. "What is this? I wasn't a chemistry major."

"That," Sherry tapped one of the photos paper clipped to the inside of the folder. "Is Wesker's serum. It stabilizes his virus so he doesn't mutate out of control. My father gave him the formula before he died. You'll have to trust me on this one, but the formula, and you're gonna have to trust me on this, has been altered. I think she's been poisoning him."

Claire felt a strange sensation, like a sudden flash of anger. "Poisoning him? How?"

"That's what I need to find out."

* * *

**A/N**: I love dialogue. More coming soon. The plot is thickening.


	6. Cold Shock

_Alexia_. The name rolled through her mind unbidden and yet inevitable. She'd let herself forget about Alexia Ashford. _No, you never forgot_. It was all too true. How could she ever forget? Drowning in black viral sludge even as it spilled agonizingly from every cell in her body. And at the same time, she'd felt it; small bony hands pulling the body free from her, like a swimmer climbing up from the water. She'd pushed that horrible memory to the farthest, darkest part of her mind. But forget? No, she'd never ever forget.

Claire shuddered involuntarily, but it woke her back up. She had to be alert. Not only was she in unknown territory, it was probable that if they ran into another living anything, they're welcome wouldn't be a warm one. Sherry had made it clear that Alexia had probably discovered her deep hacking, and even if she hadn't, she would soon. So they had to treat the situation as hostile, even if this was Sherry's home.

It had been a shock at first. They'd pulled up to a stately house, two story, with a large lawn snuggling up to a line of woods. It wasn't mansion size, just a house big enough for a good sized family to live very happily. The place was rather normal looking, even if it was in the middle of nowhere.

"The best way to hide sometimes is right in the open," Sherry had said by way of an explanation. And they hid rather well. Even if someone were to come inside, the place looked just like a home. Well, like a furnished house anyway. Everything was just too...tidy, in Claire's opinion. Like it was one of those houses on the Parade of Homes; a cold ghost of what could be a warm place full of life and love, but hadn't made that transition yet.

Sherry had led her upstairs, passed a few closed doors. As Claire passed by one, she swayed. She could smell something, faint, but familiar. A scent that sent a shiver all the way down to her toes, and made her fingers curl. With an effort she stepped away from the door. She wouldn't let herself get distracted like that. They couldn't afford it.

Sherry had stopped at the dead end of the hallway. As Claire stepped up behind her, Sherry reached out for what looked like a dimmer switch on the wall and pressed it in. The wall slid open seamlessly, revealing the small efficient space of an elevator car. Sherry stepped back and gestured Claire forward.

"You guys don't skimp on the frills," Claire observed as she stepped inside the car. She hadn't even seen a seam in the paint of the wall. And the interior was very high class hotel, without the piped in classical music.

"He never does," Sherry smiled, almost wistfully, as she stepped inside next to Claire. Claire saw the look and peered a little harder at the young woman next to her. Sherry saw the look and shrugged as she pressed the only button on the wall panel. "You never really got to meet my parents, the way they were in every day life. They weren't really affectionate, and they expected a lot out of me. He's a lot like them in that way, except one. They really weren't ever _there_. Think whatever you want about him, and it's probably justified, but he was there."

Claire couldn't think of a thing to say to that, so she did the wise thing and remained quiet for the silent ride down into the earth.

* * *

"Damn!" Sherry banged her fist against the desk. Claire stepped around the side of the desk, her gun held in the ready position still. They were expecting company, just in case.

"What's wrong."

"You know how I said she'd probably found me out?" Claire just nodded. "Well, she's blocked me out of the system. I can't access the details of _any_ of our projects from this computer."

"Can you get through the block?"

"Oh I bet I could," Sherry's eyes held a challenged and confident look in them. "But that would take time I'm guessing we don't have."

"Great," Claire sighed. "So now what do we do?"

"We go to the lab. She's blocked me from remote accessing, but she can't keep me off the main computer in the lab." Sherry stood up and Claire followed her to the door of the office.

"Okay, but what if she smashed the computer," Claire pointed out. "Or if it's a trap?"

Sherry opened the door and looked at Claire over her shoulder. "Don't burst my bubble, Claire."

Claire didn't like the fact that the knot in her stomach was telling her to say 'pop'.

* * *

"What is this?" Claire gazed around the little anti-room Sherry was leading her through. There were nozzles on the blank white walls. A drain occupied the center of the floor, and a broken length of chain was still attached to a bar of the thick grating.

"A panic room." Was all that Sherry offered. Claire shuddered involuntarily. The room made her feel cold inside.

They passed through the open door way into the lab. It looked like a small chemistry lab, with an observation window on the wall of the "panic room", and a few desks with equipment she knew she'd never even attempted to remember the names of back in high school. There were also some very high tech things that she doubted they'd ever give to even the best funded institutions.

Sherry walked over to one of those high tech whatevers, and did something fancy that made the screen power on. Claire, meanwhile, flipped through papers with one hand, while keeping the gun ready with the other. After a few minutes of giving herself a headache trying to understand the complex jargon on the papers, she finally glanced Sherry's way.

"Any luck?"

"What kind are you looking for?" Sherry shot back, but her tone wasn't a playful one. It made Claire move over to the girl's side. "From what I'm seeing, a batch of serum was made for the extended trip he's making. Nothing to be surprised about, but look here." Sherry punched a few keys on the console and a lot of readings and notations popped up on the screen. Claire looked but she couldn't make sense of this either and she said so. "Well here's the process number of the serum batch that was made. And here's the one before that. Notice something odd?"

"The numbers. It looks like it skipped one."

"Exactly," Sherry nodded. "So where is the missing batch?"

"Oh, he has it," A voice chirped behind them and the both turned. There in the doorway stood a little girl, no older than ten. Her pretty blond locks were held back from her face by a blue ribbon, tied in a large bow just above one ear. She wore a white blouse, a pleated blue skirt, pristine white socks and blue Mary Jane's. The skirt and shoes matched the bow perfectly. In her hand she held a silver case. "I thought it best to be ready to switch them out before hand."

Claire felt cold shock slam heavily into her stomach. She'd known, intellectually, that she'd probably run into Alexia, but she hadn't been prepared for it. Not really. She really hadn't thought that the girl might have her face. It was a younger version with some slight variations, but over all Alexia's features favored her mother.

"Claire," Sherry touched her elbow and it brought her out of her thoughts sharply. She sucked in a deep breath, because she hadn't been breathing. But she couldn't take her eyes from the little girl, who was now smiling at her.

"Hello, Mother," Alexia tilted her head slightly to the side, her cheek dimpling, like a demon Shirley Temple. "I've missed you so much."

"What was in that serum you gave him," Sherry interrupted, stepping slightly in front of Claire.

Alexia's bright blue eyes shifted easily to Sherry and she shrugged a shoulder. "A little cocktail of my own. I'm sure by now he's had enough that he's starting to feel the effects."

"You bitch!" Sherry lunged forward, but Claire caught her around the waist.

"Don't, Sherry," Claire spoke in a hushed tone. "It's what she wants."

"Listen to Mother, Sherry," Alexia chided. She held the case to her chest protectively, and had stepped back into the panic room when Sherry had made for her. "Mother knows best."

"Give us the case," Sherry practically growled it out. Alexia took another step backward and shook her head.

"No, it's mine."

"Alexia," Claire spoke softly, but firmly as she stepped around Sherry and walked toward Alexia. The little girl countered Claire by continuing backwards, moving into the middle of the room. "I need you to give me the case."

"Why should I?" Alexia wasn't moving backwards anymore. She stood her ground, giving Claire suspicious eyes. "You'll just give it to her."

Claire knelt down in front of Alexia, bringing them to eye level. "No, I won't. I'm going to bring it to your Father. He needs it."

"No he doesn't," Alexia shook her head, sending those soft curls flying gently. "He's better off with what I gave him. He'll be better for it."

"Alexia, he doesn't know he's taking something new. And you're not there to help him if something goes wrong with it-"

"I told him to take me!" The girl shouted defensively. Claire put her hand on her shoulders soothingly.

"I understand that. But if you give this to me, I will go to him and convince him to let me bring you to Africa."

The suspicion came back into Alexia's eyes. "Why can't you just take me?"

"Because he doesn't know I'm coming, and he doesn't much like surprises. If I bring you, he might not listen to me."

Alexia seemed to consider this for a moment then nodded. Claire reached out to take the case, but Alexia snagged her arm and pulled her forward, wrapping her into a hug. Claire stiffened, then tentatively put her arms around the little body.

"Momma," Alexia whispered into her ear, suddenly sounding nothing like the ten year old she was. "Do you love me?"

"I..." Claire hesitated, then nodded against the girl's shoulder, her eyes all for the person on the other side of the observation window. "Yes, I...love you."

"Good," came a soft sigh. Claire didn't hesitate; she rolled sideways from the girl, just in time. Alexia's hand had shaped itself into those all too familiar grey talons, and they had swung at place Claire's abdomen used to be. The little girl looked surprised as she adjusted her gaze to where Claire was now. "Momma?"

Claire got moving, picking up the case and running for the door. She heard a myriad of sounds; Sherry screaming at her to run, the chain pulling taught around Alexia's ankle as she tried to persue, and the girl's frustrated howl. Claire ignored it all as she dove through the arch way, landing on her side on the opposite end. The door slammed shut tight behind her.

Claire stood, and numbly walked toward the observation window. She watched blankly as Alexia screamed as the lights turned red, and a siren blared. The chain broke, and she rushed toward the window, but she never made it. The room filled with white fog that Claire recognized as nitrogen. In a matter of seconds, Alexia was frozen solid.

"Can she get out of that?" Claire noticed her voice sounded hollow.

"She should be flash frozen to the bone. That's how it was designed."

"Great. Now can we get out of here. I need to throw up."

* * *

A/N: You can all thank Inuyasha for getting this chapter up. For some reason, watching it made my brain spring board back to Claire and Wesker. Who knows?


	7. Tipping the Scales

Claire hadn't thrown up, but she imagined that she ought to. The queasiness in her stomach refused to settle. She felt shaky all over, even though she was sitting very still. She clutched the case to her chest as though it were the only thing keeping her together, and maybe it was.

"Claire," Sherry's voice was tentative. "You okay?"

"No. No I'm not." Claire kept her eyes shut, squeezing the case a little harder. She wished she could just curl up, but the seat belt made that a distant dream.

"You did the right thing, Claire. She would have killed us both if we hadn't gotten to her first."

"That's not-," Claire swallowed back a bought of tears. "I don't know how to explain it."

"I think I can understand, Claire. At least a little bit. She was a monster, but she was your child. I can't imagine how hurt, how confused you must feel."

"Sherry, please." Claire could feel a drop of warm liquid sliding down her cheek.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Try to get some sleep, we've still got a few hours until we get to Africa."

Claire nodded, leaning the co-pilot chair back as far as it would go. She didn't think she could sleep, not after seeing Alexia. She could still hear that soft voice, the touch of breath on her cheek whispering in her ear: _Momma_. It made her heart sick. Something precious had been stolen from her in that moment. A dream shattered.

She didn't think she could sleep, but she did. And it was mercifully dreamless.

* * *

The red light and siren finally stopped. Fingers moved over keys and the doors to the panic room slid open. Inside, the frozen form of Alexia stood motionless. Then it began to shudder. The ice snapped and cracked, sending spider webbing all along the surface. And then it exploded.

Alexia stood where the frozen statue of a child used to be. Her long blond hair was soaked and clung damply to her back. Blue eyes roamed over her new shape; slender arms with delicate hands, long lithe legs, like her mother's. She was thinner than she'd expected to be, her body slim and straight, rather than the curves that had been expected. Probably her father's genetics showing through.

"Well, you can't have everything," Alexia shrugged nonchalantly, and turn towards the exterior door. She smiled at her servant, who merely gazed back at her blankly. "Have they left yet?"

"Yes, ma'am." Her servant stepped into the room, holding out a folded bundle to her.

"Excellent," She took the clothing from him and dressed quickly. As she had been expecting to be more fuller in the hips and chest, the clothes were a bit baggy. She'd have to go shopping for something more suitable. "Then we can depart. We'll need the base prepared before we acquire our target."

"You're certain that they will succeed without your guidance?"

"They're Redfields," Alexia smirked. "They have a way of...beating the odds." She took the phone that her servant offered her and punching a quick series of numbers. She cleared her throat and affected a child-like tone, pleased to note that she sounded much as she had only hours before. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't tip the scales a little."

She heard the line buzz twice, and was rewarded by a familiar voice. "Yes?"

* * *

"I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris." Wesker shook his head in mock admonition. "How disappointing."

The soft chirrup of his phone drew his attention and he stepped back from the stone railing. He noted who was calling and frowned as he answered. "Yes?"

He listened as he walked toward the elevator, the information deeply disturbing him. He didn't have time to look into this. But Alexia wouldn't dare call him with unneeded information. If what she said was true, Excella's usefulness had all but run out.

"Wesker, stop."

Wesker lowered the phone, turning slowly to face Chris. It was all the distraction needed. Jill came practically flying out of nowhere, easily knocking Sheva to the ground, and then disabling Redfield. At least there was something to brighten his mood.

"Jill, c'mon! It's me, Chris! Snap out of it!"

Wesker smirked as he stepped up to his greatest nuisance. "Nice move, Chris. But now that your _partner _has arrived, I'll leave you two to catch up." He moved to step away, Chris's desperate pleas almost music to his ears.

"C'mon, Jill! Get yourself together! Wake up! Jill Valentine!"

"Chr....Chris...."

"Jill..."

Wesker turned to see Jill throw herself off of Redfield. She stumbled away, struggling against the device which controlled her mind. "Remarkable," he commented, somewhat impressed. "Still resisting at such an advanced stage."

He took out his remote and slid it open. He pressed a few buttons, making a rather major adjustment in the feed. Jill collapsed on the floor. "Commendable, yet futile."

He put the remote away and stepped back. "No more time for games, Chris. I've got work to do. Have fun watching Jill suffer." He stepped into the elevator, ignoring Chris's demands for an explanation as the doors slammed shut. He had much to do indeed, and part of it now was dealing with his own "partner". Her presumptions had made her far too bold. She would pay accordingly.

_Claire_.

He hated to acknowledge the strange, pained clenching he felt in his chest at the thought. Ever since that night at the gala, his mind had continuously wandered to her. And now this. He would not allow this to distract him. His goal was in sight, with only minor glitches, easily fixed. His destiny was at hand, and nothing was going to interfere with that.

_Claire..._

_

* * *

_

**A/N**: Yeah it's a short one but I wanted to move things along. And I had time to do it ^_^

**Disclaimer**: The second section is entirely quoted from RE 5.


	8. End of the World

A/N: To all my reviewers who have been so supportive and stuck by me this whole time, thank you. You guys keep me wanting to write. I appreciate the time you take out just to scribble a quick thought. It means a lot. Thank you.

That being said.

Supernena- I'm sorry that my sister's long and strenuous stint in the hospital, with her multiple heart surgeries and a transplant, has caused a disruption in your reading pleasure. I won't let silly things like that stop me from now on. And heaven prevent me from having multiple interests and obligations in my life, when you're time is so pressing.

Patience is a virtue which I hope you have the discipline to learn.

Now on with the story.

* * *

The pile of bodies was finally completed. About time too. The smell was absolutely atrocious to Excella's delicate senses. She tapped a dainty heel softly to indicate her impatience to move on. She felt Wesker step up beside her and she turned to grace him with a smile.

"Everything is ready," She purred softly. "Those two won't get passed the creature that forms from this amount of material. We shouldn't have anything to worry about from them any longer."

"Perhaps," was all the answer she received, but she remained undaunted.

"They shall be arriving soon," She turned so that she was just a breath away from him. She held up the needle that contained the portion of Uroboros that would set things in motion. "Shall we begin?"

His face canted down toward her, eyes hidden behind the dark glasses. His lips quirked in a smile and his hand came up and cupped her own around the needle. She smiled back triumphantly, he was finally coming around.

"No time like the present."

And the wind was knocked out of her. He'd moved so fast. She blinked and looked down, his hand smoothly removed the syringe from her stomach and she stepped back from her. She stumbled, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Why?"

"You're usefulness is at an end." Walking around her, he mounted the metal steps.

* * *

"What the hell happened here?" Chris couldn't help but ask as the came upon the mound of dead. They stared in silence a moment, the wind whistling across the barge's deck. Then an agonized groan caught both his and Sheva's attention. Around the pile of bodies, Excella Gionni staggered. She was doubled over, clutching her stomach in pain.

"Excella..." Chris aimed his gun at her, immediately on guard. "What's going on?"

"Why?" Excella's pained question wasn't asked of the two in front of her. "When I've done so much.... All for you..."

"Chris." The voice came from over the loud speaker. "How nice of you to join us."

"Wesker."

"Don't worry, your mission is at its end. Uroboros is on the eve of its appearance. Six billion cries of agony will birth a new balance."

"Sorry Wesker," Chris shouted into blaring flood lights. "But not on my watch."

"Albert... You said we'd change this world together." Agonized, Excella fell to her knees. "Why?!"

"I thought the were partners," Sheva turned to Chris, pity clear on her face.

"Wesker doesn't give a damn about anybody but himself."

"Soon, even you will understand Chris. One glimpse of my new world and it will make perfect sense. Unfortunately, it's too late for you. You will not live to see the dawn."

Excella began to convulse, her cries now in articulate, and still the voice kept on. "Sorry Excella, but it appears that Uroboros has rejected you. Though you have been an excellent asset. I have one last task for you."

"Albert!" Excella screamed his name as her body arched back, and the black tentacles of Uroboros exploded from her mouth.

"Farewell, old friend."

* * *

"Wait." Chris jogged over to the camera display. They'd taken refuge from the giant Uroboros monster inside the ship, looking for anything that might help them. And what they saw on the display wasn't very encouraging.

"An assault bomber?" Sheva didn't even sound that surprised anymore. "When Jill said Wesker was planning to spread Uroboros throughout the world..."

"He's planning to use this to spread it." Chris finished the thought for her. Then something caught his eye on the screen. "Wesker! There he is. Lets go." He only got a few steps when the soft beeping of his satellite phone stopped him. The face on the screen all but stopped his heart. "Jill! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." She sounded desperately out of breath but she didn't pause. "Just listen carefully. There's something I need to tell you. Wesker's superhuman strength, it comes from a virus. But the virus is unstable. In order to maintain a balance, he must inject himself regularly with a serum."

"So if we cut off his supply of serum, he loses his strength." Sheva jumped on the idea.

"Affirmative. But he just took a dose, so it's gonna be a while before he needs another one. Listen, Excella said the amount administered had to be precise. So if he injects too much, it should act like a poison. I think she used a serum labeled PG67AW."

"PG67AW?" Sheva trailed off, taking a step away. Jill continued.

"I'm going to try to find a way to escape. You need to find that serum." The feed began to cut and fuzz. "Excella always kept it with her in an attache case.."

"Jill!" Chris shook the phone, like it would do any good. "Come in! Jill!" Then the feed was lost all together. "Shit."

"Chris," Sheva turned toward him, holding the tube they'd found earlier out to him, the tube labeled PG67AW. "This is it."

They gave each other a long look. "Lets give it a shot."

* * *

Alexia sat back in her seat as she listened to the transmission from Jill to Chris. They had always been careful what they said around Excella, and in turn, around Jill, about the serum. Of course, it didn't really matter what they _thought_ it did. What mattered is what it might do if Wesker received an over dose of his doctored serum.

Such possibilities, and she couldn't be there to see them. Such a shame. But she had other things to think about, like her future with her own experiments. She had every confidence in her uncle, that he would stop the spread of Uroboros across the globe. If there was going to be a new world order, it would be _her _order, on her terms.

"Miss Alexia," the voice caught her attention and she turned her chair to look at her servant. A prototype specimen that she'd been working on and perfecting for years. Looking at the culmination of all her work, she couldn't help but smile.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, Miss Alexia."

"And is my mother nearly to Africa?"

"She and your father's ward should be arriving within the hour."

"Excellent, then I suppose it's time you set out to collect her." Alexia stood up from her chair. She picked up the small attache case from the desk and handed it to her servant. "Greet her in the manner of your choosing, but I want her undamaged. Do not fail. Dismissed."

She turned her back and went back to her seat. She still had some preparations to make for her mother's arrival. There was work to be done.

* * *

Wesker staggered backwards, wrenching the spent vial of serum. They were trying to suppress his virus! This couldn't be happening! His vision flashed red, and his head exploded in pain. It felt like his heart wanted to burst out of his chest. Rage rocked through him. How dare they?! He wanted to tear them apart with his bare hands, feel their blood run hot and fresh along his skin.

With an effort, he managed to barely reigned in the overwhelming urge to rend flesh with teeth and claw. He must focus. It would all be well as soon as Uroboros was unleashed.

He threw his glasses aside, his vision still flashing red but it was like even the dark was bright as day suddenly. He slowly gained his feet and stepped back away from the two. "This isn't over, Chris." He turned his back and leapt twice, landing with accustomed agility, to the jet.

* * *

He thought he'd have time to gather himself, his mind still felt like it was raging, defying his iron will. But they'd followed. Like relentless little ants the marched on after him. He thought he'd have it done there in the cargo hold of the assault bomber, but like weasels they slipped just out of his grip, and sent him hurtling through the atmosphere, only to land on hot jagged rock. It was time to end this.

He stripped off the remnants of his jacket, it would only slow him down, and purposefully stepped toward his quarry. He knew now what he had to do.

"I should have killed you years ago, Chris." He stepped up beside one of the fallen missiles, still intact even after the bomber had crashed.

"Your mistake." Chris held that gun at him again. Relentless. Predictable. "It's over Wesker!"

"Over?" He couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just getting started." And then he plunged his fist into the missile. Uroboros rose up, eager to greet him. It twisted and snaked around him and into him, binding metal and flesh and virus into one. It was almost poetic. Of course, it had to be this way.

He advanced on them, and they scattered like roaches before him. They ran, in a hopeless bid for survival, trapped between him and the unforgiving lava that was just one misstep away. And then they had no where else to run. He had them.

Chris rushed him, leaping on Wesker's back, pinning his arms. As Wesker tried to shake him off, Sheva came at him. She attacked him, in that pulsing growth that had formed on his chest, stabbing her knife into him repeatedly, before Wesker to dislodge Redfield.

Staggered but not done, Wesker backed up. This time, this time it would be the end. And then the ground beneath his feet pitched and buckled. The rock he'd been standing on cracked and shifted, sinking into the molten liquid below. And Wesker was thrown in waist deep.

He screamed in fury and pain, barely registering the sound of the helicopter as it hovered over head. He looked up to see his enemies pulled into the cabin of the helicopter. He wouldn't let them out of his reach. "Chris!" He lashed out with both arms, now leathery black tentacles and grasped the helicopter. If he died here, so would they!

And then his world exploded.


	9. Instincts

A/N: Ha ha! I resisted temptation and started writing this instead of starting a Fable 2 fic. I'd say that is a victory.

* * *

Claire snapped awake on a gasp of breath. Her eyes shot around the interior of the jet widely, not really sure what she was looking for, but her mind screaming at her that she find it.

"Claire? What's wrong?" Sherry's voice helped pull her back to the then and there. Claire's eyes tracked to the sweetly pretty face of Sherry Birken and held on for dear life. "Claire say something, you're freaking me out."

"Something's wrong. I-I don't know what, but something's happened. We've gotta hurry."

"Okay, okay." Sherry turned her attention back to flying, doing her best to keep her cool. She didn't doubt Claire for one minute that something had gone wrong. She'd known that Alexia had played around with Claire's DNA ten years back, and it had resulted in Alexia's rebirth, with a little help from her adoptive father. Claire was special way before Alexia's interference, and she couldn't predict how that had grown since then.

"Whoa."

Claire jerked toward Sherry, fighting against the seat belt unthinkingly. "What? What is it?"

"There was something moving away pretty fast. It can't be the assault bomber though, I'd never have caught it on the radar. And it's not even going the right direction. It's heading back south."

"What do you think it could be?"

Sherry stared out the windshield, eyes wide. She lifted a hand and pointed to what was coming up in front of them. A small volcano peeked out over the lip of the ocean, molten lava dimly lighting the darkening sky. Smoke came up in a large plumb on its rocky edge, far from where it should have originated. The assault bomber was illuminated in two neat pieces, broken across the craggy landscape. "Probably whatever caused that."

Claire's heart jumped into her throat.

* * *

It had been rough, but Sherry had managed to land, and as soon as they'd touched down, Claire had thrown off her seatbelt, and raced to the hatch. Case in one hand, she leapt down. She didn't shout for him, but her eyes scanned around as her legs carried her into unknown directions. She felt a sense of urgency, almost panic. Like something vital was about to be ripped away from her if she were too slow.

_No, not this time_. She'd already lost so much in so short a time, she would not loose anything else today. No matter what it took, she would not loose again.

She followed her instincts, letting them guide her. It would be better than rushing around the rocky landscape. Those instincts drew her to a ledge that looked broken, the area around it was pitted and smoking, like something had splashed a lot of the lava onto the surrounding rock. Her eyes scanned frantically, but she saw nothing. If- If something had landed in the lava there would be nothing left.

She stepped back, turning away from the ledge. She could think like that. It wouldn't help. He had to be all right. He just had to be. She had to refocus. Maybe she was letting her panic carry her. She should back track, start again.

As she started to follow her head's advice, she heard it. Like the splash of water but thicker, and water usually didn't hiss when it splashed. She turned back around. And what she saw made her drop the case.

Hands crawled out onto the rock ledge, lifting head and torso after. All over his body writhing black tentacles smoked and slithered, sloughing off in hideous twisting chunks. He moved slowly, dragging one knee up then the other, slowly coming up to stand. His eyes fixed on her then, and with obvious effort he shuffled toward her.

Part of her mind screamed that it was impossible, another part shouted for her to run to him. But Claire kept control. She stood still, waiting for him. With each step he took, the black viral vines fell away into smoking sludge, leaving him miraculously clean and whole before her. When he took that last step, bringing them a touch away, she lifted her hand to his face. His eyes closed at her touch, and he nuzzled against her hand. Her heart lifted. He was all right.

* * *

The explosion had sent him tumbling through a lake of fire. Head over heels he'd spun, unable to find purchase, until the churning lava had finally calmed. Up and down were a mystery, his mind wiped blank of coherent though by the burning. It was all around him, inside him. It would eat him up and there would be nothing left. Unless he let go of that which could burn.

Pieces of Uroboros fell away into the fire, and he let it. It would only drag him down, and he would not let that happen. Going on instinct he climbed and clawed his way along, pushing the taint of Uroboros from his body. And finally, his hands found purchase, and the brush of air. He lifted himself from the burning lake painstakingly slow, for even with the taint falling away, the pain was still there. And then his eyes opened and found her there.

He knew her. His whole being remembered her but his mind could not catch up. He moved toward her, shedding the last of Uroboros from his body, coming to her whole. She touched his face and it soothed something inside. He knew who she was. His mind said it as his hand came up to her wrist and pulled her in against his body. _Mate._

She would sooth him, quell the rage and ease the pain. He crushed his mouth to hers, stifling whatever she had tried to say. No words here, they were unneeded. He lifted her up, pulling her legs around his waist. He wanted her right then, but there were barriers in the way. Growling he went to his knees, laying her on her back. He was impatient for her, it had been too long.

His hands went to tear away what kept her from him, when he felt a sharp stab. He reared up, a roar in his throat, and then all his strength drained away. Blackness slid in at the edges of his vision, as he collapsed, once again into darkness.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Claire saw Sherry's face appear as they both rolled his body off of hers. She sat up, her gaze all for the prone man beside her.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Claire didn't know whether to thank Sherry for her timely intervention with Wesker's real serum, or if she should slap the girl for interrupting. When he'd pulled her into him, her body had responded instantly, but her mind had had other thoughts. Of course, he hadn't been interested in what her mind had to say. "Is he all right?"

Sherry moved to Wesker's side, performing a quick cursory exam. She nodded. "Just unconscious. But he looked a little…out of his mind. I need to get him to a medical lab and run some tests. There should be a ship to the south where he took off in the bomber. I think that's going to be our next stop."

"Okay," Claire nodded, getting to her feet. The lets get him to the plane."

* * *

A/N: Look! It's up sooner than I thought. Take THAT sinusitis! Hope it was worth the wait guys. ^_^


	10. Epilogue

His eyes opened with a snap. He was awake and aware. But when he moved to sit up, firm hands attempted to push him back down. Sherry's face was firm and determined, and his was impassible. They stayed like that for a long moment, and then she relented.

"You'll do whatever you want anyway," she said as she took her hands from his shoulders and stepped back. "You're a lucky son of a bitch, you know that right? If you hadn't been completely overdosed with C-Veronica, you'd have been ashes."

"That is what she's been substituting my serum with?" His voice barely showed his surprise, but his ward had lived with him long enough to be able to hear it.

"Couldn't begin to tell you why, but yes. She's been pumping you full of the stuff for over a month now. I'm guessing you know where the overdose came from?"

"Indeed."

Sherry didn't bother to be frustrated. Wesker was always such a font of information. "Good thing for it then. It saved your life. It kept Uroboros from bonding with your system. But…"

He just gave her a look, not bothering to prompt her. They'd done this dance for the better part of ten years. It was familiar ground.

"It's seriously messed with your hormones and other chemical processes." She handed him a small stack of paper print outs. "Which would explain why you tried to jump Claire's bones as soon as you crawled out of the lava pit." That got her a reaction. His look of shock would have been unreadable to most others, but Sherry knew this man well, and the sharp look he gave her said she'd caught him very off guard. "You don't remember that?"

"No."

Sherry let it go. If he said no, he either meant it or it was his way of telling her to mind her own. Whatever the case, she could only imagine what he was feeling right now. Though anger was likely at the top of the list. Wesker didn't like being manipulated. In any sense of the word.

"She's up on the deck. She's been hovering for hours, and I couldn't convince her to sleep. I didn't think it best to wake you with her in the room. Chemicals and all."

He didn't even say thank you before he left the lab.

* * *

The air was warm and clean, but it did little to soothe her. Her mind was in turmoil. What was happening to her? He was her enemy. He'd kill her only family without a thought given a chance. But she hadn't been thinking about her brother when she's seen the crashed bomber. She'd been thinking about Wesker. She'd been desperate to find him alive. And when she did, it was like she'd been granted a miracle. Her whole being had wanted to weep with relief.

But why?

"It was all some kind of game, wasn't it?" She turned around and faced him. He'd been so silent, she shouldn't have known he was there, but she'd felt him. Like a press of heat at her back, even though he was a good ten feet away from her. "She was playing with us like we were dolls."

"Alexia has always had her own agendas."

He'd found a pair of pants somewhere, but the rest of him was bare. Even his feet. It seemed so strange to her. He was always impeccably dressed. And yet, he looked so right, just a barely standing on this side of civilized. He epitomized the balance between monster and man. It should have repulsed her.

"I'm going to ask something from you. And I figure you owe it to me." He said nothing in response, just raised an eyebrow. "Leave my brother alone. I won't tell him you're alive, so please do me a courtesy and don't go after him."

"Revenge is not the first thing on my mind, dear heart."

She swallowed hard. She knew she shouldn't say it, but she couldn't help herself. Her whole being was practically humming for him. "Then what is?"

As she knew he would, he crossed the distance between them in a few long strides. His hands threaded into her hair, cupping the back of her head firmly, and he kissed her. It was like a floodgate opening. She suddenly couldn't get close enough, couldn't take enough of him in. They kissed like they were drowning and each other their only air.

And then, for the second time in two days, he was taken from her.

He stiffened, causing her to pull back and look into his eyes. After all, why would he stop now? And then she saw the frozen shock before he slumped down at her feet. She went down on her knees beside him, searching for what might be wrong.

"Sherry!!!" She shouted it as loud as her lungs could manage. And then she saw it. A small white dart sticking out of the middle of his back. She reached to pull it out, but a hand slapped closed around her wrist.

"Sorry, that can't come out yet." Claire's eyes shot wide when she realized who had ahold of her.

"Steve?!"

He smiled at her and yanked her up to her feet. "Hello Claire. Did you miss me?"

* * *

Sherry hit the deck at a sprint, but she was too late. She found Wesker lying in a heap on the deck and Claire was no where to be found.

She found the dart that had been shot into his spine and unceremoniously yanked it out. Touching the tip to her tongue, she spat on the deck. "Paralytic agent. Nasty one too." He stirred and she helped him to sit up. "Apparently, she's not looking to kill you. Any idea where they went?

"I soon will."

* * *

A/N: And that is the end for this! Yes, I know it's short, but as I've said before, I'm not writing a term paper here. I'll be working on the third part soon, so keep an eye out. Thanks everyone for reading!


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